ISLE OF YOU & ME - A SOLO MONOLOGUE PERFORMANCE

Monologue 1: I EXIST

They still talk to you.

Don’t quite grasp yet that you’re gone.

Maybe you’re not.

Maybe you won’t ever be.

But they still shouldn’t talk to you.

You can’t answer,

And it’s not right for me to answer for you, is it?

I don’t know what you’d say.

I’ve forgotten who you were.

But they talk as if- as if nothing’s changed- you’re still out there- the person they see. As If I don’t exist

I EXIST!

It’s not you anymore- It’s me!

*Laughs to oneself*

Here I am wanting people to stop talking to you, but that’s exactly what I’m doing.

Why is it so hard to let you go?

Were you that loved?

Can I be that loved?

Monologue 2: CONTRADICTIONS

Here on this island, I feel like a shattered mirror.

Each piece a possible person I could be.

They all came from you, but they don’t seem to fit together to make a me.

Humans are naturally contradictions, but I have so many.

Too many, I fear.

I can’t tell who I’m meant to be.

I may never leave this island.

It’d be so much easier if it was you here.

Why aren’t you here?

Just be a girl- is that so hard.

I don’t want to be here anymore.

It’s so much harder than it should be.

Look at me.

Look what you’ve done- all that potential- all that joy,

By putting me here you destroyed all that.

I am competing against endless potential.

I’m always going to lose against that.

Monologue 3: COCOON

As much as I’m trapped,

my life on this liminal island is open,

Open to it all,

Every road I could travel is laid out in front of me.

I see it every day.

I’m unable to step onto any of them because of the disconnect between mind and body.

But sometimes I look at these roads and feel hopeful rather than sad.

Liminality is a cocoon.

You dissolved,

And what gets made here is me.

Monologue 4: BLUEPRINT

Most people I’ve come out to have said they’ve always seen me as who I am.

But they’re wrong.

Most people have been concerned that I’ll go on hormones and change my body.

They don’t want me to change.

But the thing is… change is the fucking point.

Transition goes hand in hand with transformation.

I cannot stay the same.

They act as if just having a word to describe myself fixes it.

Acting as if it’s fear on my behalf- Bullshit!

It’s the fear that they’ll have to accept that I’m not the person I was.

I am but an echo of you,

And a blueprint of who I should be.

They accept that I’m sad- not that I’m going to do something about it.

Monologue 5: CHEST

I should be confident

I deserve to be confident

There are moments when I crack a joke that makes people laugh and I feel like that person,

As if maybe my blueprint is finally being drawn in pen.

But of course, then I shuffle in my seat and brush against my chest and am suddenly reminded that It’s not the type of chest to comfortably bounce back a football.

It’s not your chest.

Your chest could do that.

This chest belongs to neither of us.

This chest belongs to someone who won’t ever be.

It’s why I can’t hate it.

It’s not mine, it’s not yours,

It’s just there.

But It’s not on the blueprint.

I can’t be confident,

I can’t be all the person I am if the body I live in isn’t mine.

You were happy because you were at home,

You were aligned.

I’m off center.

God it was nice to be you.

Sound element and associated lighting sequence

The following is a mini script within a script spoken by the same performer live onstage

A:

Hiya

B:

My voice is so high pitched

A:

Just these please yep

B:

They think I’m a girl.

A:

Card yeah

B:

So smiley and polite, like a lady.

Does my wallet look too much like a purse?

The way it folds out into sections, purses do that.

But I like this wallet. It fits in my pocket; it protects the cards from being scanned- because that’s such a common danger.

A:

Cheers- yep

B:

They said, ‘have a nice day’ the correct response is ‘you too’ or a selfish ‘I will’ not fuckin’, ‘yep’? what a twat.

Monologue 6: BOB THE BUILDER HAMMER

What do you think of me?

This should’ve just been a few awkward years then move on.

To someone more settled.

I don’t think I’m the person you wanted to be.

Certainly not like this, still on my liminal island, waiting for my boat to take me to whatever’s next.

People say you never really feel like an adult.

 Is that why the boat’s not coming?

Is this happening to everyone else?

Or is my dock not good enough?

I tried my best.

I feel like everyone else got a full toolkit,

and all I got was a bob the builder hammer.

Monologue 7: Sand

I see myself through frosted glass

I am a figure made of play-doh

I am the feeling of headrush when you go upside down

I exist in the second before gravity when you’ve swung high in the air.

I am what you get when the screen glitches and shows two images at once.

I am the sand that in your fist feels so solid- So Solid!

 But in your open palm slips away

Monologue 8: YOU INSTEAD OF ME

Let’s play a game.

It’s called You instead of Me.

If you had carried on from 13 instead of me,

What would you have done with your teenage years?

No-no-no – don’t tell me. I wanna guess.

I want to know if I still remember who you are.

First thing that comes to mind is athletics.

Oh, how you would’ve run!

I got a glimpse of it but only a glimpse.

You would’ve been a magnificent sprinter.

Javelin too, hurdles maybe. You enjoyed athletics.

Depending how much of your tomboy nature was my transness poking through, you may even have stayed friends with Sharen, been in that group…

How much of me is the result of being queer?

How far would I have to go to be untouched by queerness?

Then again, it’s not like it was something I picked up along with acne in my teenager kit. It became more noticeable as a teen, sure.

But I think you were queer too.

No, this isn’t a queer island.

There isn’t an age where it all went downhill.

I can’t go back to your island and ‘put it right’

Put you on a different path.

They’d all arrive here, with me.

Maybe that’s why I’m so heavy sometimes.

The inescapable inevitability of this pain.

It was so much easier when you were just running from A to B

If only you knew what you were running towards.

Would you have still?

The following mini script is performed with a fair amount of improv, but the structure and ending remains the same.

A:

Oh no sorry, I’m just waiting.

B:

I need like 24 stamps- well no I have 24 envelopes; I don’t need that many stamps.

Oh, the lines are dividing, fuck which line do I need to be in.

A:

Sorry yep

B:

I’m in the post office line rather than the regular shop line, that’s right isn’t it. Yeah.

Are these lines gendered?!

Ok maybe not, but I still do not enjoy this ratio…

So- I could get 5 second class stamps and 5 first class stamps, that should work.

Oh Jesus it’s me next.

A:

No problem yep.

B:

Ok I’ve got time while she’s doing the other line of customers.

5 second cla- no maybe I should say 10 stamps first.

Is it easier for her to know the total before the divide.

Like how you say £50 in tens and one twenty.

No, I’ll just go with 5 and 5. I think that’s easier for her.

And me.

Fuck.

Show time.

A:

Hiya, oh- no that’s ok.

Could I get 5 first class stamps and 5 second class stamps please.

B:

Didn’t have to say ‘class stamps’ again, just made it into a mouthful.

A:

Oh yeah that’s fine.

B:

No idea what she said.

Those are different colours to normal.

Are they bigger?

Does 8x1 mean size?

Do you get big stamps?

I don’t want big stamps.

Oh, it’s 8 in a pack.

She was saying would I- oh- oh no she left me; I’m not done though.

I’m still paying.

I need to say thanks loudly so she knows I didn’t steal.

A:

Thanks

B:

What the fuck was that?

See the way she looked at us, that confused expression.

That’s because of your small voice, she was looking around for the magic talking mouse that must’ve suddenly appeared.

…

8 in a pack, so that’s 16- ok

I should’ve googled how stamps came.

I guess 5 is an awkward number if you think about dice.

You’d be left with one on a page all by itself.

Makes sense for 8

8 is good.

Monologue 9: PEOPLE PERSON

I wonder who I could’ve been if I’d had the light to grow.

I think I could’ve been a people person.

Sometimes I get glimpse of this person- who lights up rooms, says ‘hello’ and ‘how are you’ with a hug.

But it’s just glimpses.

Instead, my routine is to arrive early, preferably before anyone else, and find a quiet spot in the corner to become unnoticeable.

Like I’m finding the frequency of the room so I can match it and be unseen.

Monologue 10: LOVE FOR YOU

There is love for you,

I’m not sure where I put it, but it’s there.

I feel it.

The love other people had for you.

And my love for you.

I owe everything to you. You had the strength to die.

You made way for me.

It wasn’t completely out of your control-  I acknowledge that

You could’ve fought to stay, kept me out.

But you let life go.

Gave it to me.

You have supported me when things got tough,

And you celebrate with me when things go well.

On the occasions when that face in the mirror is mine, I know you’re smiling too.

And when I see your face in the mirror. I know I’m in good hands.

I’m sorry I’m not doing a very good job

Monologue 11: SHARED SPACE

It doesn’t feel right only taking parts of you,

Treating you as something I use,

Looking at you as something lost.

I want you to stay perfect and whole, safe over there

Where you are you.

Not here, not me.

This is a mess

But what I’m coming to realize is that: I’m stuck with you.

And you’re stuck with me.

Islands may separate us, but we both live here.

This is shared space.

I’ve tried so hard to hide you.

Ignore you.

Shut you out.

Bury you completely.

Because I thought you were a threat to me being me,

And eventually them.

But you’re not

You’re just a child.

I am so sorry that I made you feel like a burden.

It’s just hard.

I don’t really know yet how to be me, with you.

I’m working on it.

After a pause

Sound element and associated lighting

Then eventually the intensity of the white light box, as well as the soundscape, slowly fades and after a couple beats of darkness and silence the house/studio lights are turned on.

The End.

Read the script

A LITTLE BIT ABOUT MY PROCESS

I start most of my projects in my head, visualising different versions and levels of the work, so with this project explored the aesthetic through Pinterest mood boards and drawings (the first of which is shown at the start of this page)

Once I’ve got a clear vision in my head for how I want the work to look and feel, I can begin to bring it to life.

Writing was extremely important to this piece, I needed to make sure I was communicating my thoughts and feelings clearly to those in the audience who could not relate (very close to 100% of the audience was in no way queer) My process was to write stream of consciousness type monologues on any topic I felt was relevant to my experience, then I went through and combined, edited and refined them so I eventually had about 20-25 minutes worth of writing.

My next job was to create a soundscape to go behind this spoken performance. This needed to be a sound that felt expansive, slightly dangerous and like that of an island landscape, so I used repeated and rhythmic sounds to mimic waves,.

The breaks of recorded voice in the soundscape represented the breaking of the ‘filter’ I apply to my persception of my life, I exist with a constant effort to fool myself into thinking my exterior self is who I want to be instead of who I am, just so I’m more comfortable. When I hear words that go against the ones I prefer this breaks the ‘bubble/filter’ and I’m confronted with a painful and disappointing reality. For these sections my performance becomes more vulnerable, I did not script anything for myself here, instead leaving it to the moment to see how I was feeling. In general by those points in the performance I was very much in my head and feelings, so these moments were genuinely emotionally upsetting for me.

HOW I WOULD LIKE TO SEE THIS PIECE PROGRESS

For me this project has always been an extract of something larger. There is so much more that I have to say on the topic of queerness, growing up and identity. Each monologue could’ve been its own 20-minute piece.

This project could become a 2-hour stage show, or an episodic film series.

Along with extending monologues and touching on more specifics (ie. Relationships to family, friends, and the lost potential people in my life) I would also further develop my theatrical language.

Technology and set would be more effectively and predominantly utilised.

For example, projections, lighting and sound could be used to expand the environment of the island- representing more weather events such as crashing waves, storms, and bright sun.

I would aim to better balance the stage text, recorded voice and physical elements, with a more fluid transition between them.

There would potentially be the introduction of ensemble cast members that represent the ‘inner demons’ of the mindscape (which is an element that I decided not to pull from my initial inspiration text ‘What Light We See’). These other bodies in the space would help visualise the main character as being different, trapped and engaged in a fight. With these ensemble actors I would be able to choreograph physical movement sequences that symbolised and strengthened emotions and themes brought up in the text.

I would also like to further explore how I could create a more clear and visual representation of liminality onstage, so it’s not just a theoretical concept, but something the audience could tangibly see and understand. I think technology could help with this, by establishing a clearer language within forms (live performed text, physical movement, recorded voice, soundscape, lighting, film, set pieces/props) I could then begin to break this down and use muddled theatre forms to represent the breakdown of order/clarity within my identity.

Feel free to message me if you’d like to know more about this project